


Creature of the Night

by ussgallifrey221b



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Oral Sex, Rocky Horror Picture Show References, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 02:53:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21263894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ussgallifrey221b/pseuds/ussgallifrey221b
Summary: It all starts with a cult classic from the 70s and it just spirals from there.





	Creature of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Relevant song(s) - [Original](https://youtu.be/VRIOVcLijo4), [Glee](https://youtu.be/4Z1t-a63Sl0), and [Remake](https://youtu.be/5IepnA7YFeQ).

He can pin the exact start of the madness to five Fridays ago. The mandatory tradition of weekly movie nights in the tower. Steve had convinced him it would look good for him to start going way back when the divide between sides was still noticeable. That was a year ago, things have smoothed over considerably since then. And he finds himself even enjoying the lazy night in with the team. It's a good way to catch up on over seventy years of missed movies anyway, so there's that.

But god, he'd be remiss to say the experience wasn't improved by having you right there with him. Curled into his side, hand lazily running up and down his thigh as you whispered into his ear who this actor was and what other movies they were in and had he seen the remake or the original?

It was an extremely chance encounter, seven months back. Classic hazing ritual by the older agents had you walking across the gym and challenging him - of all people - to a sparring match. The confident walk and commanding voice were only masking the slight nervous tremor in your hand. And hell, to be completely honest, he had taken one look at ya and hadn't blushed that hard since '41.

Once he was able to pick his mouth off the floor at the pure sight of ya, he had accepted the humorous proposal. Was even enough of a gentleman to give you the first few hits before easily dropping you down on the mat - much to the amusement of Agents 16 and 31, if their high-five was anything to go by. 

After that gets kind of blurry. Heated looks, cocky flirtations, an almost-kiss in an elevator, a stupidly spontaneous babble mess of asking you out on a proper date, followed by many touches and kisses and time spent in a warm bed.

But back to the main point. Five Fridays back, on movie night with the rest of the team. He can't even remember who chose the damn thing, he'd been too lost in the curve of cleavage peeking out from your v-neck. But he was met with a pair of ruby red lips on screen and it just went to shit after that point. They all ended up way too drunk for their own good - besides himself and Steve, of course. Which speaking of, the blushing blonde had vanished shortly after Frank-N-Furter appeared in all his leather corset glory. 

Sam won a solid twenty from Tony for that. Stark had bet on Steve making it to the end of "Sweet Transvestite", but clearly lost. And you had laughed, said something to make him grin and gotten back to the complete insanity that was  _ Rocky Horror Picture Show. _ There were pathetic attempts and dancing and singing along from everyone. Even you were belting out at one point.

He's not sure if he'll ever be able to get the image of Tony Stark screeching out "I Can Make You a Man" as long as he lives. Or worse yet, Barton actually singing "Hot Patootie" with  _ you _ . That stirred a bit of jealousy, he'll admit it. But you were laughing and flushed and gorgeous and you kept looking at him instead of Clint with this heated gaze that made him fucking weak.

That night was the essential starting point of his descent into madness.

In the glory of morning haze, lacing up his boots on the edge of your disheveled bed, he catches the tune down the hall. With only his boots and pants - still dirty from last night's mission - he silently makes his way to the open bathroom. All fogged up with the shower's hot spray, he can make out the shape of your naked body behind the curtain. Lathering up your hair under the showerhead. But more than that is your voice. Singing and working with the acoustics only a bathroom can bring.

_ "I've tasted blood and I want more - more, more, more! I'll put up no resistance, I want to stay the distance. I've got an itch to scratch, I need assistance! Toucha toucha toucha touch me, I wanna be dirty! Thrill me, chill me, fulfill me, Creature of the night." _

You pause before shyly peering around the curtain and catch him openly watching. 

"You gonna stand there all day, soldier?"

Of course, he had never wanted to get undressed faster than in that moment. But it was naturally when his phone went off with Sam demanding to know where the hell he was. He settled for a last kiss before grabbing his clothes from last night and making a mad dash for the door.

And then, only four days later when he had managed to glimpse you across the conference table, you just kept fucking going with it. With that stupid pen held between your teeth as you quickly tapped out a beat on the table. Tony and Steve were arguing over Plan A and Plan C for the museum stakeout. You caught his eye and, like the kinky little minx you were, you knew damn well what you were doing as your eyes grew heavy-lidded. And your fingers tapped out the chorus one more time, for good measure.

_ "Toucha toucha toucha touch me, I wanna be dirty! Thrill me, chill me, fulfill me, Creature of the night." _

All he wanted to do was kick the team out of the room and take you right there on the stupid expensive table, but he settled for clenching his hand into a fist instead.

Then, at the gym, you're sparring with Agent 68 while he's winding down on the treadmill. He loses track of time, because you're suddenly there, leaning on the handle with a sugar-sweet expression - minus the split lip bruising your face. Bringing the pace down to a walk, Bucky makes to wipe the speckle of blood away but you pull back at the last second.

Flashing him a grin, you smooth your hands over the handlebar and give him a coy look.

"What can I say, Buck? I've tasted blood and I want more."

His throat constricts, he feels the storm brewing and his shorts growing tighter. And he's going to properly kiss you now, because it's been two weeks since you've had a chance, damnit. 

"Hey, 67! You coming or what?"

You give a sympathetic smile, brush your pink lips against his cheek, and slap his ass as you follow after Agent 68.

He watches you go. Perfect ass in those pants that make him want to fucking scream. Bucky's workout had almost finished, but he feels the need to hit the punching bag a few more times before he calls it.

Another week out and he has a date with his girl. The first night in almost a month that he can see you outside of the tower and ever-watchful eyes of the team. It's quickly destroyed by Tony telling him to get his ass on the jet because they need backup. And he has a date but Stark threatens to fuck up his arm in a completely heinous way, so he grabs his gear and sulks and doesn't see you again until three days before Halloween. 

And, to be very clear about it, he's fucking dying for your touch now. He's about ready to shove Sam into the wall just to get to you. But you give him this knowing look and he's well aware of what it means. You evil little thing.

"You're dragging the icebox along, right?" Tony's asking you.

A sultry sweet smile meets his hungry gaze as you look over your shoulder at him, "We'll be there, Tony."

He hums noncommittally as he pushes the rest of the team into agreeing to the Halloween party.

You've pulled away from the crowd, hand grazing past his side. And you're still smirking as he tugs you into his chest. You're smiling and he wants to kiss you rough and dirty, but Stark's on your case in an instant. 

"Two feet apart, seriously. I'll get a measuring tape, you two are still on lockout for last month's mess."

That makes Bucky relax a bit as he drops a kiss to your head before you pull out of his grasp once more. Tony hadn't forgiven him for the shattered table yet. Or the chair. But that's okay because he'll be fine, three more days and maybe after the party, he can - 

You're walking down the hallway, humming  _ that stupid song.  _ He wants to scream.

_ "Toucha toucha toucha touch me, I wanna be dirty! Thrill me, chill me, fulfill me, Creature of the night." _

Three days drag by at a grueling pace to the point where he thinks he's going a little bit insane with  _ want _ . But it's late, the party's been going for an hour by the time you show up. He almost chokes on the fake vampire fangs when he catches sight of you across the ballroom. How could he not? 

Dressed in white, tight and short and everything on fucking display. You saunter over to the open bar where he's been impatiently waiting. The angel wings kind of complete the look and the heavy lump in his throat has become impossible to swallow as he unabashedly stares.

You hum curiously, "And you are  _ what _ exactly?"

Bucky smirks, flashes the fangs and thinks he catches a shiver running through your body. You'll blame it on the chilly air if he asks, so he doesn't. Inching closer, Bucky pulls you onto his knee making you give a gorgeous startled gasp.

Fixing him with a look, you hook your arms around his neck.

"This might be the laziest costume I've ever seen. And I saw 43 walking around with an 'Error: Costume Not Found' shirt earlier."

A warm finger drags itself down your goosebump covered arm. He swallows thickly, "You look amazing."

Preening with delight, you rock against his thigh, " _ Oh _ , this old thing?"

That clear path of skin at your clavicle looks inviting. But there's too many eyes, too many cameras capturing the moment for social media and the official charity group. Not here, not yet.

His left hand, which had been resting on the bar top, is suddenly being pulled by a focused movement. Edging closer to the hem of your skimpy white dress and you don't  _ stop.  _ A quick glance around gives him the veil of privacy that he needs. Your legs are facing the bar and too many bodies are packed in the darkened room to notice the path his hand is being taken. 

Leaning in close to his ear, you murmur, "Bought these for tonight."

And he wants to ask what exactly you bought, but then you're guiding him up a bare thigh to the edge of something silky and then -  _ oh _ .

His eyes shoot up to meet your knowing gaze.

"You like them?" Asked with a wavering gulp of nerves.

He dips his finger in, feeling the warmth of your soft lips. You seem shocked that he would do such an obscene thing in public, judging by the way your eyes shut and your back arches. But his right-hand holds you tight on his leg.

And then, oh god, then he finds himself bringing his hand up and he licks the slick from his fingers and that just seals your fate. Openly gaping at him, he just smirks before standing you up and eagerly pulling you through the crowd where your laugh is lost amongst the music.

Running down the empty hallway, right past the elevators and into the marketing offices. He can hear your laugh now as you call his name.

"What's gotten into you?" you giggle with a hint of exasperation. 

Spinning you easily so that your back is pressed into the wall, he moves into your space, letting his lips linger just far enough from your own. But he can still feel the spreading warmth of your breathlessness. Hands settle on the silky fabric of your costume, holding you steady by the hips.

"You," he bites. "Fucking, you. Everywhere. All the time."

You lean in for the kiss, but he's not letting you off that easily. Grabbing your hand, he pulls you further down the hall - away from any prying eyes.

He knows the route of the cameras, but he really doesn't care at this point as his back knocks one of the office doors open. He's tugging you closer closer closer, making you jump into his waiting arms. Your smooth legs wrap around his middle as he easily holds your weight. With hands draped behind his head, you try to draw him into a kiss. But he turns so you kiss his cheek instead.

Your whine brings him pause. 

"Come on, baby," you pout. "Don't be like that."

Grabbing you by the bottom, he pulls you impossibly closer. Giving a small groan as you rub against his growing bulge. With a coo, you purposely circle your hips to gain friction.

Another hand pulls you back by your angel wings. He fixes you with a darkened look.

"What gives you the idea of walkin' round with those on?"

With a little huff of annoyance, "I'm trying to get my  _ boyfriend _ to touch me. Though I'm starting to wonder if he even plans on - "

He's quick to jump on the moment, lips crashing into your ruby reds. Desperate and needy after a damn month of next to no contact with his girl. He sure as hell isn't wasting another second of it - all your games be damned.

Lips trail across the perfectly smooth skin of your jaw, down your neck where he sucks a mark in. Fake canines leaving a harsh impression on your otherwise flawless body. And he doesn't even realize he's talking, his mind is so far gone in the feel of your skin against him.

"That fucking song," he's saying as another kiss and bite is placed. "Singing and humming, and your damn ass, baby. At the gym. God, you've been drivin' me crazy all week."

Your laugh turns into a moan as he hits that spot below your ear with a hard suckle.

" _ Oh _ , good. That was my -  _ uhh _ \- plan," you manage. 

For that, he bites down  _ hard _ on your shoulder. Breaking the skin with flecks of blood that he licks clean. Flashing you a victorious grin as he pulls back. And then he's turning, depositing you on the edge of a desk. You cross your legs and lean back with a coy smile.

His mouth goes slack at the sight of his girl, his perfect angel baby, playing all sweet and innocent for him. It's making his head spin.

"You know," you start with a bat of your lashes. "I've only ever kissed before."

He hides his chuckle as he rakes his eyes up and over your legs.

"Is that so?"

His hand darts out, begging to feel your warm skin - starting at your calf and slowly working up to your knee, toying with the hem of your white dress.

Your lips purse and you're looking up at him with this innocent expression as you nod, "Mhmm."

With a dominant touch, he parts your legs - spreading them wide as his fingers travel upwards.

"See, you're playing this angel character, but I think you've got a dirty streak, sweetheart," he smirks at the gasp you illicit when his fingers stroke along your slit.

"Crotchless panties?" He chides, rubbing his knuckle over your mound. "Fucking tease."

You preen, "Come on, Buck. I've got an itch to scratch. I need assistance."

He lets his finger dip into your wet hole for that little comment. Slowly stroking in and out, he watches you bite your lower lip.

"You gonna start singing?" he asks, toying with your control as his fingers glide against your warmth.

It startles a laugh out of you, which only spurs him on. "Keep it up and I might start singing a different t _ -une! _ "

A second finger easily joins the first. And maybe you think you know where this is heading, but he has different plans for you. Bucky enjoys that curious gaze that follows him as he drops down to the carpet, resting on his knees as he dives in.

You don't have time for questions as his tongue replaces the fingers. Licking that sweet salty amazing slick of your hot cunt. Swirling around your clit, down to your fluttering hole. Pulsing and begging for more _ more more. _

There's a hand thrust roughly into his hair. Forcing your thighs further apart so he can really get in there, eat you out and suck your juices down.

You're moaning his name like a fucking prayer as your hips gyrate frantically. He zooms in, sucks your clit into his mouth. Watching you between heavy-lidded eyes as you fall apart above him. Your cum dribbles down his chin as he gently licks you clean, savoring that taste - he'll never get enough of it.

Chest shuddering, eyes closed with waves of ecstasy, Bucky waits for you to come down from the sudden high. He focuses on your beautiful thighs, kissing and suckling gently.

With a tug on his hair, "Your turn."

He gives one last kiss to your leg, before bringing his hands back to your sensitive core.

"About that," he trails off sweetly.

There's this look you give him like you're about to argue. But then your face goes slack as three fingers enter you with a squelching stretch. How many can he give you? Right here in the tower with a camera pointed at your back. All your friends and coworkers only a few rooms away. He's about to find out.

With fingers stretching you and filling you, he ignores the strain of his own arousal as he sucks at your clit.

Bucky watches you relax, unable to keep yourself sitting on the edge of the desk as you slowly slump back onto a stack of papers. Your hips arch into his touch as he swirls and sucks and fucks you.

He can feel it coming, faster than the first but still just as desperate. Your eyes are squeezed closed and your mouth is open and your chest is heaving and he's got you right there, just one more - 

Your thighs squeeze his head in place as you arch up into him once again. He takes his time easing his fingers out, enjoying the way your slick dribbles out. His fingers are shining with it and he can't help but lick them clean, watching you shudder and shake on the desk.

Voice a little breathless, you smile down at him, "If this is what happens when I sing - "

He's crawling over you, hands squeezing your hips as his crotch aligns with your wet cunt. His head lowers to meet your face. Cum-soaked lips meet plump red and he wants a taste. 

Bucky can't help the groan that escapes when that touch of iron hits him. You must have bitten your lips at some point and it's intoxicating. Cum and blood mixing and tangling and driving him that much more towards the edge. And then you're hooking a leg to hold him in place. Tugging him closer, making him rub against you once more.

"Please, baby," you beg. "Touch me."

And how can he deny you? Your arms wrap around his neck as you pull him down into a languid kiss. There's a moan when tongues meet and his hand is wedging under you and lifting you up. Your legs wrap around him as he walks you down the row of cubicles to a senior member's office.

He briefly takes in the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the city, before letting you slide down to the floor. When you steady yourself, something in the air changes. You drag a hand down his chest, fingers running over the buttons. He stiffens when your path leads you to the obvious bulge in his pants, but you linger for only a second before moving right back up to work him out of his shirt. Tantalizingly slow as you pop each button from its hole, exposing more and more of his blazing hot skin as you go. The last one gets stuck and in his growing impatience, he just rips the shirt off his back and throws it somewhere by the door.

A well-manicured hand rests above his heart, before slowly dragging down. Between your touch and the cold air, he can't help the shiver that runs through him.

Walking behind him, your hand traces over the muscles of his side and back. You pause, staring at him apparently. And then you're right there, flush against his bare skin, hands circled around to his chest as you lean in close to his ear.

Your voice is soft above the air system and thrumming of a distant party.

"I wanna be dirty."

He gulps, catches his breath, feels his chest grow tight and hot and his brain fizzles for a second before grabbing your hand and pulling you forward. Letting you land on the dark-wood desk. Hands steadying yourself as you lean over it. From this angle, he can properly appreciate the way your dress hugs your ass. And if he just…

You shiver as he pulls the hem up just a few inches to expose your leaking cunt.

"Fuck, princess," he groans, unable to keep the facade in place. 

His hands travel down to your ass, spreading your cheeks to get a better view of your still sensitive hole. You're squeezing, seeking out something that isn't there. Maybe just one more…

Your head is pillowed by your arms, facing the side as you breathe in with the touch of his hand on you again. Spreading your lips apart, staring at that sweet hot core.

Dropping down one more time, he nuzzles into you, licks a strip from slit to clit. Savoring the taste and the way you shudder as he works over your sensitive bud. Pink and perfect and just for him - only him. Spread wide and open, begging for his touch. Bucky can't help but drag his fingers along you, dipping into your cunt again. Watching the way you instantly clench around him.

Voice a barely-there whisper in the night, " _ Please _ ."

Oh. 

He likes that. He likes that  _ a lot _ .

That tight strain in his pants is becoming harder to ignore, but he wants to draw one more out of you, watch you fall apart before claiming you for himself.

His tongue darts in and out of your leaking cunt, swiping up cum with frantic movements. The hands holding your legs in place must be leaving some serious bruises, but you're just mewling and sighing. Withering and rocking against him as you reach the peak of another wave of pleasure.

Bucky runs his hands down the backs of your thighs as he waits for you to come down from the pleasure high. When you're ready, you lift your head up and peer down at him.

"You're insatiable."

He smirks, places a kiss to your bare thigh, gets lost in the glisten of cum still dripping from your hole.

With a stretch, you stand and he rises to his feet. You're staring down at the near-painful bulge presenting itself. Hopping up on the desk, you pull him closer by his belt and he lets you. As you unbuckle it, Bucky watches the flush and sweat on your brow. The determination in your eyes as you pull his pants down.

The instant relief of his cock being pulled free of the tight constraints of his clothes elicits a sigh from his lips. And then your hand's there, his head falls back at the sensation of talented fingers slowly stroking him. Let's himself surrender to the moment at last.

"So good for me, baby," you're saying.

He groans as your grip shifts, thumb rubbing the head of his cock with expert strokes.

And then you chuckle, "Looks like you needed a friendly hand. But," you stop. His eyes open. You smile sweetly, "I need action."

It takes a second for the words to reach his brain and make a full connection. And then in a flash of well-orchestrated movement, he has you on your back with your legs dangling over the edge of the desk. Pulling you closer, he forces your legs up and around his waist.

When you realize what's happening, you give this happy little sigh and wiggle your hips down towards his aching member.

In his head, he can hear you singing in the shower, tapping against a conference table, humming down the hall. It echoes and resonates and absolutely pushes him over the edge as you look up at him with a doe-eyed expression. Feigning innocence just for him.

That first touch sends him reeling as he eases into your wet cunt. Heat blossoms within the velvet walls with that first delicious knee-buckling slide. 

When he's fully seated inside you, with a heaving chest and sweat dampening his brow, you stare up with this blissed-out halo of lust and desire. Pulling out slow and purposeful before slamming back in. You gasp, arching up with the suddenness of his movement. So, he does it again. And again. Scooping you up by your bottom, bringing you half off the desk as he grinds into your wet hot core.

He's muttering something as he thrusts, hell if he knows what, but it's just falling from his lips. Something deep inside has him spilling out a litany of praises and satisfied moans. He's fucking close. Bucky can feel that building intensity and heat, but God, he wants you there again.

A rching and moaning under him, he brings a hand up to your clit. Rubbing it with quickened circular motions. Then you're really moaning and gasping and squeezing around him so fucking good and right and yes fuck yes, baby.

You scream as another peak of pleasure takes over, squeezing hard around him as you ascend to a higher point. And that has him chasing after you, thrusts growing fast and sloppy as he slides into your wetness. Your cum makes squelching noises as he rams into you, just one more,  _ fuck. _

Bucky freezes as his cum coats your walls with hot spurts, mingling with your own juices. You're boneless and slack under him as your chest heaves with deep shaky breathes. You've got a hand in your hair, which is a complete disheveled mess now.

Groaning as he pulls out, he shoves himself back into his pants before reaching out to finger you. Pushing the cum back into your quivering cunt, you gasp with the touch. Sitting up on your elbows, you gape and go to ask him something, but he just shakes his head with a smile.

"You got one more in there for me, don't ya, babygirl?"

"Fuck," your head makes contact with the desk as he takes his thumb to rub over your clit.

It doesn't take long for his over-sensitized girl to start shaking and arching up into his touch as he circles that pretty red bud.

He's glued to the sight of your cunt, glistening with cum, squeezing and clenching and grinding against his touch.

"Come on, angel."

That sends you over the edge, one last time.

He licks his fingers clean, readjust his clothes, waits for you to drop back to Earth. You're slow to sit up, looking a pretty mess. All because of him, he thinks rather proudly. He's sweet on you, smoothing out the wrinkles of your costume, straightening out your angel wings. And then he's cupping your blushing face and kissing your plump lips like that's all he was ever meant to do.

"That was," you start, words escaping your foggy mind.

"Amazing?" he supplements as he helps you off the desk with a hand in yours.

Your hip bumps his as you head out of the office, past the rows of empty cubicles. "Something like that," you offer.

You're holding onto him just a little bit tighter as your legs still seem a tad shaky. The fresh air of the hallway hits you with a blast of chill. Bucky wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his chest.

"So," he starts tentatively. "How many more do you think you have in ya?"

You whip your head around to stare at him with a stunned expression. "Seriously?"

He smirks, shows his fangs. 

Pulling out of his grasp, you stare down the hall, and oddly enough, up at the ceiling. "How many floors are there?"

He goes to answer, but catches the knowing look in your eyes - challenging him.

Bucky swallows the lump in his throat, "We starting on the ground floor or?"

With a squeeze of his hand, you pull him close. Ghosting over his lips, "Think we can break into the penthouse?"

He nods quickly. Picturing you stretched out over Tony's fancy couch, disheveled and glowing.

You press a quick peck to his lips before settling back, "Well, come on then. My creature of the night."

Bucky smiles before giving a wolfish howl. You scream and start running for the elevators. He's quick on your heels, already planning the obscene things he'll do to you on the ride up.

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted on my [Tumblr](https://ussgallifreyfics.tumblr.com).


End file.
